What Changes
by RagnarokSkurai
Summary: Series of drabbles on Everworld and how some changes are good, and some aren't.
1. David

250 word drabble on what Senna really was to David. Part one of a four part series, one for each surviving character.  
  
Not slash. Which is a real big thing for me, actually. This has the distinction of being my only non-slash fic. Who says I'm obsessed? I'm dedicated, damn it, dedicated!!  
  
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~Searching Through the Ice~  
  
Senna wasn't just Senna. I mean, she was but she wasn't. There was Senna the ice bitch, Senna the sorceress, and Senna, April's wacked out older sister. And then... then I think there was Senna the person. The person which no one ever really saw because she was buried a long time ago. Hidden away and locked up. I saw glimpses of that Senna, and that was what I wanted.  
  
I searched through the ice for her, trying to find what was sincere and what was alive and bring it back out with me. But all I seemed to grab was shards of ice. Sharp and cutting and utterly useless. And I'd look around at the freezing whiteness, and it would reflect the emptiness back at me. And I'd try again. Go back under; let her pull me back in. I couldn't help thinking I needed just one more time. Just one more try. So I kept trying. Until she wasn't there anymore. Until even I could see that. Until even I gave up hope.  
  
So if they ever ask me why she had such hold on me, I'll tell them the truth. It was the other way around. I wouldn't let go of her. She didn't want me anymore but I didn't care. I wasn't ready to let go of her. Senna. I wanted to save Senna. But I didn't. In the process though, I might have done something I never thought possible. I might... I might have saved myself.  
  
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Review please. If not I get all depressed and have a disturbing tendency to kill off all my characters. And no one wants that, right? 


	2. Christopher

250 word drabble on Christopher's take on Everworld. Part two of four.  
  
It was very hard limiting Christopher to 250 words. The boy seriously blabs. Never ruddy shuts up.  
  
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~Shifting Through the Worlds~  
  
I don't know why I was dragged along on this road trip from hell. Comic relief, I guess. Maybe I was the wild card. I was the old boyfriend, the cast-off. Picked up as a potential and then discarded. Whatever the reason, I'm in Everworld. I'm still here.  
  
That's me. Always in the wrong place at the wrong time. Story of my life. I couldn't be much more messed up if I tried. I'm an eighteen year old alcoholic stuck in an alternate universe with a bunch of gods, Vikings, Aztecs, fairies, leprechauns, you name it, it's here. The buffet of weirdness. Insanity abounds. Hell, insanity is *expected*. Must be why I fit right in.  
  
This place. it grows on you, man. Seriously. It was kind of related to Senna. Seemed like the more I hated her the more I started to like this place. Because. nothing, I mean *nothing* is outside the realm of possibility. In the Old World, what was waiting for me there? I'd watch the old me fade away even more surely than I'd faded away into this world. At least here I had a shot.  
  
I don't think the four of us will stick together much longer. David's the Grecian commander, Jalil's practically the elves and dwarves messiah, and April's slowly being transformed into a 'Lady'. One of Merlin's knight buddies has already proposed. Me? The Vikings, man. Beer, babes, and some warfare on the side. They're my crew. I think. I think I'm home.  
  
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Not exactly what I had intended, but oh well. Review please! 


	3. Jalil

250 word drabble on how Jalil saw Senna. Part three of four.  
  
Jalil's a bit OC. Maybe more than a bit. Ah well. Let me introduce you to Jalil, my version. *trumpet fanfare*  
  
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~Sorting Through the Chaos~  
  
I like the rules. I like logic, reason. I like A plus B to equal C every time, not change because they could, or because some screwball god felt like it. When I add up the equation I want the whole to be exactly the sum of its parts. Right to stay right and left to stay left. Is that so much to ask? Because there's always something screwing me up, always something in my way. The chaos factor. And Senna? She was the ultimate chaos factor. She ripped the rules apart with her bare hands. Threw theorems and formulas and equations out the window. No codes, no regulations, no sanity. Senna was intoxicating.  
  
I realize it was stupid. Recognized the futility of it, even as I knew I was powerless to stop it. Senna was like my OCD. I know deep down I have control. Or at least I should. It's my brain after all, my body. And at the same time I know I can't. It's just out of reach. It's mine but it's not.  
  
You can't create something out of nothing. Even here you can't. Here things just skip a step. Everworlders can create out of air, out of thought and magic and life itself. I've learned that there *are* rules. You just need to look a little harder to see them. You can't take things at face value. Look past the skin and see everything under it. Look past the obvious and just search for truth.  
  
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Review please. Or I will eat you alive. Poke you with a rusty spoon. Something. 


	4. April

250 word drabble on April and Senna's relationship. Part four of four.  
  
Hope you like April - the unsunshiney version.  
  
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~Sifting Through the Memories~  
  
Senna and I hung out sometimes. Not a lot. And it was never a laugh riot, but we carried on a decent conversation a few times. She used to help me with my schoolwork when I was little. Funny how I'd forgotten all that.  
  
Not saying she wasn't a psycho. Not saying that I haven't at one point or another hated her. She was. And I have. But as weird as it sounds, psychos are people too. Take the character Hannibal Lector. Creepy, undoubtedly. Scary as hell, psychotic as all get out. But can you help liking the guy? I don't know about you, but I can't. I always liked him. Liked his devotion towards Clarice, his tendency to play little mind games, his witty banter and how he seemed to be one step ahead of everyone. So. Creepy, psychotic, scary, and looking for a little love. Sounds a little familiar, ne?  
  
I don't know anymore. I wanted her to be plain evil. When you kill someone evil it's all right. If you kill the bad guy, that automatically makes you the good guy. If the bad guy wasn't so bad, what does that make you? The semi-good guy?  
  
I don't know. I can't think about her anymore. It's all a jumble of memories. Sometimes I'm not even sure which are real and which I've changed to suit myself. Senna was my excuse. If I did something awful, if I had blood on my hands. well. It was only hers.  
  
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April now creeps me out quite a bit. Why do the good ones go so horribly wrong? Why? WHY? *cries pitiously*  
  
Oh right. Review please! *smiles* 


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